


Aphelion

by achievingelysium



Series: oceans away [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Like so much angst, Suicide Attempt, but also everyone learns to stick together a little, but everything is platonic and that's how i write it, but i mean i guess if you want to you can squint, eventually, like something is uP WITH LANCE hahaha, something is up with lance, there's no real relationships, they're idiots, umm look it gets a little dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievingelysium/pseuds/achievingelysium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After saving Lance from the clutches of the Galra empire, the team struggles to put themselves back together. But Zarkon is on the move, Lance's scars run deeper than his friends realize, and the defenders of the universe find yet another problem when they can't assemble Voltron. Time is running out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> when i say "lance is my favorite character," i really mean "lance is my favorite character tO HURT." 
> 
> sorry in advance

**APHELION**  
noun (astronomy) - the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun.

* * *

_one_

"Lance?"

Pidge and Keith exchange a look when there's no response and step closer. Keith glances down the long hallway, making sure there aren't any guards before ramming his shoulder hard into the door. It shudders but doesn't give in.

"Stay here," he tells Pidge, and they nod, bayard glowing green. "I'm going in."

The comms crackle. " _Uh, can you guys hurry, please_?" Hunk says. " _Not to rush you or anything - Shiro, left! - but it'd be really nice if we could get Lance and_ get out, _you know, heh._ "

Pidge responds, but Keith is focused on getting the door open. Eventually he extends his bayard into the gleaming red sword he's used to and swings hard until he can get it. "Lance?"

There's no light in the cramped room - if it can be called that at all - but between the little light that trickles in from the hallway and his sword, he can make out a distant shape, curled up and pressed along the far wall.

His heart drops in his throat.

He and Lance aren't exactly the best of friends; actually, it's a little bit of an understatement. Keith finds the other paladin annoying and immature, always ready to pick a fight and rile up their so-called "rivalry" - though to his credit, Keith always takes the bait. There's something about Lance that just gets under his skin, that makes his guts twist in red-hot anger.

But Keith doesn't _hate_ him. They're teammates.

It's this thought that rises above all his other ones when he sees Lance now, that the crumpled form on the floor is _his teammate_ , that the Galra have tried to take down Voltron and so targeted the one person no one expected them to.

"Lance," he yells, forgetting to be quiet and throwing all caution to the wind as he surges forward and kneels. The sword clatters to the floor as his hands hover anxiously, not knowing what to do.

Now that he's close enough, he can make out Lance's face, his sharp, angular nose crooked and thin lips in a line, shadowed with crossed lines. There's a dark, mottled bruise on the side of his face, and Keith hisses out a sharp breath at the speckled blood that dots his skin like freckles.

Lance's eyes are open though, dull-looking and glassy, following Keith's movements as he gently lifts Lance up.

"Lance," he breathes. "you okay?"

There's no answer; Keith isn't sure if he'd been expecting one, though the slightest disappointment settles in his chest. Lance is not a quiet person - a fact that Keith, unfortunately, knows all too well - and to get nothing but silence is unsettling.

"I got him," Keith murmurs, clipping his bayard to his belt and sliding his hand's under Lance's body, bracing himself. He counts to three and lifts upward, carrying his teammate bridal-style. Lance's hands are limp and useless; his head settles against Keith's chest.

" _Good_ ," Shiro says, a thin layer of relief dusting his words. " _Get back to the lions_."

Lance is surprisingly light, a fact that doesn't bode well with Keith. The expression on his face doesn't help, dark brows drawn together in pain. He makes a noise when Keith and Pidge have to pick up their pace to avoid the guards.

"Sorry," Keith says breathlessly, pressing himself against a wall. Lance just screws his eyes shut tightly, his breaths low and raspy.

"This way," Pidge says, darting into an alcove, and Keith follows.

They're almost out to the main deck, where their lions are waiting, when a spray of gunfire licks at their heels. Lance groans when Keith sets him down and unsheaths his bayard, his blade wicked and deadly.

"We need back-up," Pidge murmurs, and the two of them step without speaking to surround Lance, protecting their fallen teammate.

" _Hold on_ ," Shiro says in their ears. " _we're coming._ "

" _Yeah, um, as soon as we can- ahh_!"

"Hunk?" Keith cries, darting forward and taking out a sentry. He can hear Shiro saying something, but his words are drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the clanging of metal meeting metal.

He doesn't have to worry. Hunk is suddenly behind the line of Galran soldiers, barreling through them like a mad bull and generally causing chaos. Keith relaxes slightly when he sees Shiro following not too far behind, his arm glowing.

They hold for another moment, pushing back against the enemy as chaos reigns. Keith catches Shiro's eyes and on an unspoken cue, they turn and dart towards their lions.

Shiro scoops up Lance as they run, Pidge and Hunk covering for them as Keith acts as a guard.

"Go!" Shiro yells, one foot in the Black Lion, and the paladins scatter, covering each other as they race for their respective lions. There's an angry roar by the army behind them, the sound swelling.

Keith stumbles as he takes a hit but makes it to his lion, heart hammering in his chest when the Red Lion lifts off. He slides into his chair as his lion snaps his jaws shut.

" _Everyone okay_?" Shiro asks.

" _We're good_ ," Pidge says.

" _Yeah_ ," he answers. They have to wait for a moment for Hunk to answer; it's a long moment that makes Keith anxious, but finally his teammate speaks up.

" _I'd be better if we were back on the Castle of Lions, and I could stuff my face_ ," Hunk grumbles. Keith risks a glance to the left and sees the Yellow Lion lagging slightly, the Blue Lion carried safely on her back.

" _I think we'd all feel a little better when we get back_ ," Shiro says, his voice kind but strained. " _Princess, are you there_?"

" _Yes, Shiro_ ," Princess Allura answers. It's hard not to call her by her title. " _Paladins, I'm about to open a wormhole, but be careful. You're not out of danger yet_."

" _No, we're not_ ," Shiro agrees, though they are out of the thick of it. Keith directs the Red Lion so that they fall back and draw up besides Hunk, a necessary shield. Hunk murmurs his thanks, and Keith, though he knows Hunk can't see him, nods sharply.

A wormhole opens in front of them, swirling blue the color of Lance's lion, and Keith lets out a long breath as they file in. When they land in the hangar, Princess Allura already there waiting, Keith lets most of the tension drain out of his body. They're finally safe, all of them.

"Are you alright?" the princess demands as Keith stumbles out of his lion, the adrenaline wearing off. She holds out an arm and steadies him, eyes narrowing as she assesses Keith. "Are you hurt?"

He recalls being hit and nods before shrugging off her look of concern. "Just a scratch."

Pidge is out next, popping their helmet off to reveal a pinched, worried face. They run a hand through their messy hair and covers a yawn. They're supported by Hunk, who keeps a firm hand on their back even though he looks like he's about to drop.

"Shiro? And Lance?" Princess Allura asks, seeing the Blue Lion. She's answered a moment later when Shiro steps slowly from the maw of the Black Lion, carrying Lance gently in his arms.

"Oh," she says, her expression crumbling for a moment before she regains her composure. "How is he?"

Shiro shifts Lance in his arms and frowns. "Not good," is his answer. "I took off some of his armor so it wouldn't hurt him even more, but his wounds..."

In the dark hallways on the Galra ship, accompanied by the pressure of an invisible clock hanging over his head, Keith hadn't gotten a good look at their hurt teammate. But now, in the brightness of the castle and safe, he can make out the extent of the damage.

There's not much left of the thin flight suit that they wear under their armor; it's been torn to shreds, dark stains blossoming across the fabric that makes Keith sick. His body is littered with wounds, cuts and lacerations and small patches of burnt skin here and there.

And then Shiro swears, his face tightening in anger. His hand glows slightly with his emotions, and when Keith sees what's made Shiro upset, he has to turn away.

"What?" Pidge asks. "What is it?"

"Oh," the princess says again, faintly; she reaches into the folds of her dress and draws out a dagger. Bile rises in Keith's throat as she acts. "Shiro, lower Lance for a moment and brace him, will you?"

"What?" Pidge says again, sounding alarmed. "No, he needs to get to the med bay!"

"They sewed his lips together," Princess Allura snaps finally, eyes flashing as she whips her head up to face Pidge. "so he was muted, had his speech taken away from him like an animal. This needs to be done first."

Keith forces himself to get closer, to kneel by Lance's side even though that's the last place he wants to be. Lance's eyes are trained on Princess Allura, though, as she cuts away at the binding.

When she's done, she presses her dress sleeve to his lips to staunch the bleeding. Lance's groan is muffled; without thinking, Keith reaches for his hand even as Shiro grips his other one.

"You're okay," Shiro says, voice soft. "We've got you, Lance."

Princess Allura lifts her arm away, her sleeve stained red. "Come," she says sharply, her voice taut with tension as she stands. "he should be taken to the med bay immediately."

Keith is glad he's not close to Lance, not in the way Hunk and Pidge are. It makes it easier for him to follow Princess Allura, makes it a little easier to set aside what's been done to Lance so he can focus. For Shiro, duty and responsibility holds him together for the person in his arms, but Pidge remains frozen, and Hunk sobs quietly.

He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to comfort other people, so he's grateful when Shiro speaks. "Come on, you guys," he says quietly. "we all need to get some rest."

The trek to the med bay is slow and filled with half-spoken apologies. Keith tunes out the sound of Shiro's voice, steady and warm as he talks to Lance, his words like the beat of the ocean.

The situation is Keith's fault. Well, really, it's a bit of everyone's, a mixture of Lance's stupidity and unfaltering bravery; Hunk's kindness; Pidge's burning curiosity; Shiro, with his sense of duty. Keith, because it's easy for him to dismiss Lance, because he's scornful and bitter most days about how easily Lance seems to fit right in, all the time.

It started with a distress beacon and ended with even more distress. Shiro had gone with Hunk to help out a ship of crashed rebels. They'd been truthful this time - no deceiving or tricks up their sleeves.

Keith, Pidge, and Lance had gone the other way, the three of them offering to scout the area where the rebels had said the Galra ships had landed.

There'd only been one ship, destroyed and burning; Pidge had suggested that maybe the Galra had left, figuring the rebels had crashed, anyway. So they'd taken off to explore the abandoned ship, the three of them, Lance opting to climb out of his lion while Keith in Pidge stayed in theirs.

Then he'd started picking a fight, restless and something in him hungry for a taste of anger, until Keith stormed off with Pidge following, trying to reason with him, Lance left alone with his lion.

And then everything had gone wrong.

Keith works his jaw up and down, upset. He'd messed up that day; he'd caused a rift in Team Voltron and disrupted a carefully-built balance.

"Come on, buddy." Shiro's voice is low and encouraging. "Stay with me."

Lance presses his face against Shiro's broad chest, shadows covering his dark skin. Keith shifts so he can still see Lance, making sure that his teammate is still there with them.

"...'m tired," Lance croaks, fingers fisting in the fabric of Shiro's flight suit.

"I know," Shiro says, lifting him a little higher. Keith feels like he shouldn't be here, like he doesn't belong in this quiet scene. "but you have to stay awake, okay? Just for a little longer."

Lance makes a ragged noise that sounds like a whimper; Keith's hands clench at his sides.

"You...," Lance tries, but he coughs, wet and heavy.

"Breathe, Lance," their leader says.

Lance coughs again, thin frame shaking in Shiro's arms. His eyes, dark brown, shine with pain - but they're understanding, clear where they hadn't been before. He sucks in a breath, his gaze suddenly intense where it's fixed on Shiro's face.

"You should've left me behind," he hisses suddenly, Keith moving on instinct at the sound of Lance raising his voice. His arm drops to his bayard before he realizes what he's doing - Lance is not a threat. "You should've..."

"Not a chance," Shiro says fiercely.

They reach the med bay, where Coran is waiting by one of the cyropods. The man stiffens when he sees Lance but smiles cheerily, telling Lance how glad he is to see him and that he'll be " _out and about in a tick's time_!"

Shiro sets Lance down in the pod but stays standing there, the line of shoulders tense. He grips Lance's forearms. "I will never leave you behind, Lance, you understand?"

Lance's expression twists suddenly; he grab's Shiro's wrist. "No," he moans, crumpling forward as they all cry out in alarm. "Get it out, get it _out_ \- don't... don't trust-"

He slumps forward, unconscious. "Lance? Lance!"

Air gets caught in Keith's throat; he forgets how to breathe as he stares. Then Lance groans, eyes fluttering as Shiro supports him.

"Lance?"

Lance's eyes are dull again, hazy, like there's film covering them. Though Princess Allura, Coran, and Shiro look relieved to see Lance conscious again, Keith can't dispel this heavy feeling that's settled on his chest.

_Get it out - don't trust..._

"Don't trust what?" Keith says sharply, his mind whirring. "Get what out?"

Lance stares at him blankly, like he doesn't remember the words he said only a few minutes ago.

Coran helps Shiro get Lance settled in the pod as Keith demands answers, though he doesn't get any. Shiro puts a hand on Keith's shoulder and sends him a sharp look, though it's more out of worry than anything else.

"Don't, Keith," he says, tired. "the questions can wait until after Lance is healed."

He wants to argue, but his eyes are drawn to Lance, eyes now closed as the cyropod whirs to life around him. If Keith didn't know better, he would think him dead.

It's enough to quell the burning need for answers. Shiro wraps an arm around Keith's shoulders, and they sit together on the steps near Lance's pod.

"He'll be okay. Lance is stronger than you give him credit for."

It's not really what Keith is thinking about. His mind drags up more memories: circling back to the abandoned Galra ship to find nothing, angrily following the Blue Lion's tracker thinking Lance had done something stupid, finding only a tracking chip left in the dust and the signs of a struggle.

He remembers more anger, and underneath it, guilt as they all spend restless nights in the Castle, Allura pinpointing the Blue Lion's location on a Galra ship. A message demanding the trade of the princess and the Black Lion for the blue paladin.

And then only an hour earlier, with Lance's blood on his hands and fury in his heart.

"Yeah," Keith says, clasping his hands together so he doesn't have to see his red-painted skin. His fingers won't stop trembling.


	2. Chapter 2

**APHELION**  
noun (astronomy) - the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun.

* * *

_two: hunk_

For Hunk, crying comes as easily as breathing. That's how it's always been, mostly because Hunk sees a lot of stuff other people don't, and he's a fairly sensitive guy.

As he stirs the pot in front of him, he thinks about home, about Grandma, who'd always told him that men should be unafraid to share their vulnerabilities and that crying would only make them stronger. He thinks a lot about Grandma these days.

"Smells good." Shiro's voice floats through the room, and Hunk hears rather than sees Voltron's leader sit down at the table. "What is it?"

Hunk lets himself smile and tastes the stew before ladling it into two bowls, putting the lid back on the pot. "Hunk's old-fashioned space stew," he says, setting a bowl in front of Shiro. "Family recipe, except with a couple of exotic ingredients."

Shiro cracks a smile at that. Everything in the pantry is an exotic ingredient, though Hunk has been gathering different ones every time they stop by a planet.

"It's delicious," he says, shoving a spoonful of stew into his mouth. "You're going to have to make this more often."

Hunk sits back and enjoys the meal, sweet and a little spicy. The vegetables, which are dark purple, are soft, and they melt in his mouth. He closes his eyes and can almost imagine he's eating Grandma's cooking.

"Is that soup?"

Pidge rubs at their glasses and slides into the seat next to Shiro. Hunk fills another bowl and slides it across the table.

"Thought you'd be working on something or the other, pidget," he says, and Pidge rolls their eyes at the nickname. Lance had coined it, as he does with most of the team's nicknames - pidget, " _like midget but with a p_ ," he'd snickered. If he wasn't using pidget, he'd call them Pidgey.

Hunk grins at the thought.

"Don't call me pidget," they mutter into their stew, using a sleeve to wipe their glasses clean from fog. Shiro ruffles their hair and earns an indignant squawk.

"Okay, Pidgey," he jokes, and Hunk and Shiro laugh at their disgruntled look.

"Pidgey's even worse," they grumble. "like, I'm not a Pidgeotto, at least? Or a Pidgeot? But no, I'm resigned to being some CP 10 Pidgey."

Shiro smiles, looking the most relaxed he's been in a while. "Oh, come on," he says. "you're probably the only CP 2067 Pidgey in existence."

Pidge mutters something, scowling, but their lips turn upward slightly.

"I just came from seeing Lance, actually," Pidge admits. "He's doing really well. Allura and Coran both think the healing process won't take much longer, so he'll be out in a day or two."

Hunk lets a few tears fall even though a grin splits his face. He's missed Lance. Like, a lot.

He sighs fondly. "He's just got this problem with, like, getting himself in trouble."

Shiro raises an eyebrow. "Yeah," Pidge agrees. "oh, God, do you remember that time with Lance and the substitute flight instructor?"

Hunk frowns, thinking hard. "You mean with the trash can and the lasers?"

Shiro leans forward, raising both eyebrows. "You'll have to tell me this story," he says, propping his chin on his prosthetic hand. "I don't think I've heard it."

They're interrupted halfway through the story by Keith, who's come from what looks like a hard training session, and as Hunk serves another bowl of stew, they get sidetracked by what sounds the lasers make - because obviously, they go _pchew pchew_ and not _pow pow pow_.

By the end of it, the four of them are in stitches. Keith's face is as red as his lion, Shiro is doubled over gasping for breath, and Pidge is pounding the table. Their laughter fills the room and eases the aching weight that's been settled on Hunk's shoulders.

It doesn't last, though, because a second later, Allura bursts into the room. Her skirts settle around her when she drops them, and she breathes hard for a moment. Then she straightens. "Paladins."

Shiro, their leader, is the first to react. "Princess, what's wrong?"

She takes a deep, shaky breath. "It's Lance."

Lance. Of course it's Lance - Lance, who stays up with Hunk until two eating ramen and tells joke, Lances, who's always welcomed him with open arms, Lance, who has five siblings and a family that stretches beyond blood, Lance, snarky and funny and brave. Lance, who doesn't deserve anything the universe has thrown at him lately.

"His vitals have dropped," Allura tells them, and Hunk shakes in his seat. "Not by much, but in his state, it's dangerous for him. Coran suggests that perhaps a more familiar presence may help."

Hunk is already standing, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'll go."

Allura gives the barest of nods before he runs out the door and towards the med bay. The only thing Hunk knows is that he can't lose his best friend.

"Ah, Hunk," Coran says when he stumbles to a stop. The Altean begins to babble, like he usually does - the more nervous he is, the more his mouth runs. But suddenly Pidge is there, taking Coran by the arm and leading him out, leaving Hunk alone.

He sits on the steps next to Lance's pod and sighs, not knowing what to say.

"Sometimes I wish none of this ever happened." Hunk scratches at the back of his head. "I mean... I feel like I've found another family and all that, but sometimes I just wanna go back to the way it used to be."

"Galaxy Garrison, you know, cramming for our exams the day before, and the flight simulators, and no... no lions and no running for our lives and no losing our friends."

He cries a little, and he knows Lance would've put a hand on his shoulder and said something a little profound before breaking the moment with an awful pun that would've made Hunk laugh anyway.

He talks for a little longer, telling Lance about his plans for making space _papa fritas_ and how he remembers spending summers with the McClain's, singing songs in a language he doesn't understand but loves anyway, racing each other down the street, and sleeping pressed up next to each other like brothers, making constellations out of the cheap plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling.

"Mind if I join you?"

Shiro stands in the entrance, and Hunk shakes his head and pats the empty space next to him. They sit in silence for a moment, no words between them but an understanding passing through anyway.

"I feel like it's my fault."

Hunk frowns. "You know it's not your fault."

Shiro sighs, staring at his hands, one flesh and bone, the other prosthetic. "That doesn't make it better. I'm the one who's supposed to..."

"You can't," he says, a little sad. "We all want this, even if it feels like we don't. And Lance... yeah, he misses home, but he wants this more than any of us. We belong here, we choose to do this."

"I wish we didn't have to."

A beat. "He really looks up to you, you know," Hunk says conversationally. "I mean, he already did, and like, you're a super awesome leader and stuff. But I also think you kind of remind him of Antonio - his brother."

Shiro looks back at Lance, eyes thoughtful. "I've always wanted a brother."

Hunk reaches for his hand and holds it tight. "Well," he says, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Now you have three. Three-and-a-half. Four-ish."

Shiro is kind of like the older brother, though most of the time, they joke about him being the Space Dad. It's nice having someone listen.

"We should go," Shiro offers hesitantly after a while, even though he doesn't really look like he wants to leave. Hunk glances at his wrist, where a set of glowing numbers lazily blink back at him - their newest invention, something that gets them pretty close to running on Earth time. It is late.

"Yeah," Hunk responds, but neither of them move.

They both turn to look at Lance. Half-healed and asleep, he looks peaceful, shedding some of the years that seemed to have been added when no one was looking.

But there's a lot of scars now, lines and marks that will never leave Lance's body. A painful, immortal reminder.

"Lance wouldn't want to be alone," Hunk whispers. And Lance wouldn't. Growing up with a large family, Lance had always had someone there, and at Galaxy Garrison, Hunk had done his best to fill that gap if and when he could. It feels wrong to leave now.

"Lance wouldn't want us to sacrifice our rest over him, either," Shiro counters. Hunk's shoulders slump at the argument.

Shiro sighs and stands, offering a hand to haul Hunk up. They walk out of the med bay together, the humming of the cyropod at work the only sound following them.

They have to pass the training deck to get to their rooms, and Hunk isn't surprised when he sees Keith hard at work, pressing back against a bot. Shiro joins him, the two of them watching Keith for a moment before the paladin finishes, calling for the end of the session and sitting down, bayard at his side.

Hunk realizes Shiro's moved to the entrance and hurries to follow. "Hey, kid."

Keith, now sprawled on his back, cranes his neck to look at them. "Shiro," he says, voice warm. "Hunk."

"It's late," Hunk says before anyone can get in another word, voice firm. "and we should all catch a few hours of sleep."

Keith retracts his bayard and sits up, stretching languidly before getting on his feet. He looks exhausted; dark bags hang under his eyes, and his hands are shaking with exertion.

"How's Lance," he says, though it's not really a question.

Hunk rubs at his wrist. "Okay."

"He's stable now," Shiro says, ruffling Keith's hair absentmindedly with a hand and ignoring the paladin's glare. "I'm sure he'll be a lot better in the morning."

Everyone will, Hunk supposes. This late at night, no one's bound to be doing very good, much less Lance of all people. But eight hours of sleep and recovery does wonders.

And it does. Hunk wakes up the next morning and feels refreshed, like energy has seeped into his muscles.

He's halfway through breakfast when Shiro pads in, bleary-eyed and not yet awake. "Have you seen Pidge?"

Hunk swallows his mouthful of space goo. "Um... now that I think about it, no."

Keith slams his bowl of breakfast down on the table harder than necessary, like he doesn't want to be awake - he's clearly not a morning person. "Probably stayed up working on something or the other and fell asleep in the lab."

They all nod in agreement. Hunk finishes his breakfast. "I'll go check."

But Pidge isn't in their lab. He has to double-check, because Pidge can fall asleep anywhere, and they're so small. "Pidge?"

Allura's space mice chatter when they see him, curled up on one of Pidge's latest experiments. "Hey, little buddies. Have you seen Pidge?"

They all shake their heads in a no before scampering off, splitting into different directions to join the search. Hunk has to remind himself that they're still real and that none of this is a figment of his imagination before he goes to the hangar.

Pidge isn't there either. He checks Green and finds the lion empty, no late-night modifications made to him. Blue's empty, too, still a large, hunking mass of twisted metal and burnt sides.

"Hey, Blue," he says, because that's what Lance calls her. "I'll do some repairs on you today, okay?"

She hums under his large hand, her eyes flickering in answer before going dark again. He sighs. She's as hurt as her paladin is.

So Pidge isn't here. Hunk sets off on a quest through the entire ship, running into Coran at one point and almost deviating from his mission when the Altean starts one of his stories. He manages to get out of it, though, promising to come back later.

The question remains: where's Pidge?

Hunk is usually the first to panic. His mind comes up with a thousand scenarios: Pidge has been kidnapped right under their noses, or Pidge got stuck and fell asleep in one of the vents, or Pidge accidentally was experimenting with anti-gravity, and now one of the rooms will get them all stuck to the ceiling.

Instead, he finds Pidge sprawled on the floor of the med bay, back pressed against the steps. The pod next to them is empty, and Hunk's heart leaps in his throat. Next to Pidge is a sleeping form that looks like...

" _Lance_!" he yells, running forward joyously.

Pidge jerks their head up and presses a finger to their lips. "Hunk," they say, voice soft, and Hunk stops in his tracks.

Lance is curled up on the floor, a blanket tucked over his sleeping form. On closer inspection, he's half-draped over Pidge, his head on their thigh and one hand clasping their's.

"I don't want to wake him," Pidge says, stopping halfway through to yawn. "but _he won't get off me_."

"When...?"

Pidge shrugs. "Maybe, like, three in the morning? Passed out on me before I could get him back to his room or something."

They finally give in and gently shakes his shoulder. Hunk kneels down on Lance's other side, waiting for his friend to wake up.

A pair of confused brown eyes crack open, blinking as they adjust to the dim light. Lance makes a questioning noise that changes into a wordless yell when Hunk throws his arms around him and holds on tight, laughing.

"Lance, buddy," he jabbers, feeling hesitant arms snake across his back. "Man, Coran said you wouldn't be awake for another day or two, and your vitals dropped yesterday so we were scared out of our minds, and-"

"Hunk, the poor guy just woke up. Cut him some slack," Pidge says, and Hunk shoves down his excitement and releases Lance long enough so he can study him.

He looks a million times better. His wounds are healed, though Hunk can see pale lines as a reminder of where they'd been, and he doesn't look quite as pale as before.

"You look like shit," Pidge says matter-of-factly.

"Pidge," Hunk hisses out of the corner of his mouth, gaping at them. But then he notices the dark circles that hang under Lance's eyes and how he can't quite seem to focus on anyone or anything too long.

"Umm," Lance mutters. He wets his lips and jerks upwards sharply before lolling dangerously to the side. Hunk puts a hand on his back to steady him and exchanges a worried look with Pidge.

"You okay there, buddy?"

Lance mumbles something that sounds like nonsense. He struggles to get up, his limbs moving awkwardly as if he doesn't quite remember how to use them.

Pidge, now free, clambers to their feet. "Ugh," they say. "Why the fuck are you so heavy, Lance?"

Hunk is half-expecting Lance to shoot back a scathing remark, or to boast about his muscles, but there's nothing. He stands there, shoulders tense, and stares at his hands.

Pidge moves forward and touches his shoulder.

"...Lance?" they say, annoyance giving way to concern.

"Um," Lance says. "I'm, uh, fine. Yeah, fine."

"Are you sure, buddy?" Hunk asks, hovering anxiously. It's easy to get worked up, easy to worry when Lance looks like he's about to fall over at any given moment. But Lance takes a step, then another, like a newborn fawn learning to walk - or a drunkard - before righting himself.

"I'm _fine_ ," he snaps, and the sudden heat in his words is enough to make Hunk take a step back.

Pidge reaches for his hand and taps a message into it, a code the three of them had made up during their Galaxy Garrison days. They haven't used it in such a long time that it takes Hunk a moment to understand, but he does.

_S-M-T-H-S W-R-O-N-G._

"Sorry," says Lance, the three of them moving through the med way and heading out towards the mess hall. They pause outside the doors.

_U-R R-I-G-H-T._

"I'll just... I'll head back to my room. Catch you guys later!"

Hunk and Pidge watch him go in the opposite direction, a lone figure passing through the halls of the castle. They don't let go of each other's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh do you ever think about posting a chapter and just die inside  
> a.k.a: i want to get to the good parts of this fic already (angst!!!) but nooo, we're only on chapter 2 
> 
> yo come find me on tumblr @achievingelysium

**Author's Note:**

> hey go check me out on tumblr. i'm too lazy to link but come scream about voltron to me @achievingelysium


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